


A Bouquet of Daisies

by Plutonia



Series: The Great Pomegranate Endeavour [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, F/M, Flower God!Merlin, Hades & Persephone, Kidnapping, Mergana Week 2017, Mind Games, Pre-Relationship, Underworld Goddess!Morgana
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 15:35:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13056924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plutonia/pseuds/Plutonia
Summary: After Morgana ordered her good-for-nothing minions to capture the King of Olympus, she is furious when they bring her some useless (albeit admittedly cute) servant instead. She decides to at least interrogate her prisoner for information, but the mischievous flower god might just be more than he seems...





	A Bouquet of Daisies

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Mergana Week 2017, Day 4 - Alternate Universe
> 
> This is intended to be a small prequel for a series i've been working on for a while. Enjoy <3

Morgana took an unimpressed look at the unconscious figure on the ground. 

“I asked you to bring me the King of Olympus,” she hissed at her cowering minions. “Yet, it is no golden head that I see, but a brown one. What am I supposed to do with this fool?”

“M-my Queen,” mumbled Agravaine, head lowered devoutly. “I-it seemed that the false king’s soldiers were fast on our tails. We could not risk going back to right our… mistake, or they would’ve caught us.”

“Maybe you should’ve let them!” she snapped. “Seeing as you clearly can’t even complete a simple task. Do I have to do everything myself?” Morgana glared at the sniveling excuse of a man, good for nothing except playing guard-dog riverside of the Styx. She should’ve know not to trust such an important mission to the likes of him. Competent underlings were hard to come by, nowadays.

Agravaine looked like he was about to retort—surely to come up with more empty excuses. Just at that moment, a muffled groan was heard from her feet. 

She looked down in surprise.

The servant—just a boy, he was—that her minions had kidnapped ran a hand through his dark locks as he came to, and then pushed up his elbows in a clumsy attempt to rise from his position on the floor. 

“Where… where am I?”

 _The impudence_! Morgana opened her mouth, prepared to put in place the pathetic little worm that dared address her. 

Then he raised his head.

All sharp words died from the tip of her tongue like a thousand candles snuffed out. He was _beautiful_.

Suddenly it was as if she’d been hit by one of her brother’s lightning strikes, except that it did not feel painful at all. Her insides were tingling all over, almost pleasantly, and a strange warmth was spreading in her stomach. She shook her head in disbelief, feeling her chest constrict—why was she having difficulty breathing? 

If Morgana didn’t know better she would’ve thought she’d been spellbound, frozen on the spot and yet feeling like she was floating. There and not really there all the same.

She realized she was taking quite some time to answer, and chanced a quick glance from the corner of her eyes to check on her minions. They were looking at her expectantly, waiting for her cue to punish the prisoner for his cheek. She shook her head again, struggling to grasp a clear thought.

Agravaine came to her aid. “Show some respect, _boy_ ,” he commanded haughtily, brushing back a strand of oily dark hair as he stood up straighter, “you are speaking to Lady Morgana Pendragon, Goddess of Death and Queen of the Underworld herself.”

“Queen of the Underworld?” The boy made no move to get up yet, but turned around to look him up and down for a few moments. “With all due respect, err, Milady, but I had always thought a queen to be more of a… well, woman.”

The minions burst into gleeful cackles as Agravaine sputtered, his face growing red with anger and humiliation.

He opened his mouth in protest, but Morgana took that as her cue to intervene in their childish squabble. She silenced all of them with a glare, and Agravaine’s mouth quickly fell shut again.

“My, my, aren’t you a witty one,” she purred, having rediscovered her countenance. There was no reason for these feelings of hers; all was under control. This was just a silly boy who didn’t understand in what dire situation he had found himself in. Well, she could use that to her advantage.

“Pardon the brashness of my men.” She knelt down to be at eye-level with him, making a remorseful face. “They simply do not know how to treat an esteemed guest. Here, let me help you.”

Taking his hand, she pulled him up with her until they stood face to face. 

He was quite tall, but thin. His eyes, so deep and blue and distracting, held a puzzled look, giving the impression of a fish well out of water.

Morgana suppressed a smirk. This was going to be easy. “May I introduce myself properly? I am the Lady Morgana, on my part sovereign of the nether domains. With whom do I have the pleasure?”

A way-too-lovely smile crossed the boy’s face. “I’m Merlin, God of Flowers. Nice to meet you, Milady!”

Eagerly, he shook her hand. His grip felt warm. Comfortable.

Morgana quickly withdrew from the offending touch, keeping a stiff upper lip. “Likewise, _Mer_ lin”, she let the name melt on her tongue, savouring it slowly, “so, how is it that you came to seek me?”

“Well…” He frowned, rubbing his chin as he adopted a thoughtful pout. 

( _And would one take a look at those lips! ...No, you’re trying to interrogate him. Don’t let yourself get distracted_.) 

“I can’t recall it so well. I was accompanying the king for a hunting trip, when suddenly I heard a great kerfuffle in the distance and everything went dark. Next thing I knew, I woke up here.” Merlin shrugged helplessly. Again there was that sweet summer smile that made her feel like her insides were casting somersaults.

She fought down a grimace, moving along with her plan with steely resolve. “The king, you say? You must be quite the important person, to have the honor of being a member in his hunting party.”

He huffed. “As if. I’m his servant, well, more like a pack-mule really. He always takes me along so he can order me to carry all his stuff.”

“Is that so?” she asked, with feigned sympathy resonating in her voice. “Why, that must be quite a demanding task. I couldn’t imagine serving a man such as him!”

“Oh, tell me about it. It’s ‘ _Merlin, you idiot_!’ this, and ‘ _Merlin, you idiot_!’ that, from dawn till dusk. I can never catch a break. Yesterday he wanted me to act as his footstool, because he was feeling too tired to let his feet rest on the floor! Can you believe it?” He gestured wildly as he spoke, looking at her with an indignant expression.

Morgana raised a brow. From the back of her mind, she registered her minions whispering amongst each other in bafflement. “Oh, that is most discourteous. I’d never known my brother to treat his household staff such! And to be around him every day… you poor dear.“ 

She snaked an arm around his shoulder, and turned his chin around with her hand. “You simply _must_ tell me all about what it’s like,” Morgana whispered, looking him deeply in the eyes.

“Uh…” 

She fluttered her eyelashes, as if trying to clear a speck of dust from her eyes.

Merlin bit his lip. 

“Why would you want to know about that prat?” he mumbled, seemingly in a daze.

Morgana let a sigh fall from her lips. “It’s just… I haven’t seen him in so long—I do worry, mind you. He tends to be quite forgetful of his dear family.”

“He does, doesn’t he?” Merlin gave a slow nod. “He’s just so busy right now, constantly overworking himself because of these important documents he’s trying to finalize. If I didn’t look after him, he would be in a right mess!”

“And knowing him, he isn’t even grateful for it.” She patted his arm sympathetically. “One has to wonder, whatever could be important enough for him to be neglectful like that?”

Merlin frowned, throwing her an unsure look. “I’m… not sure if it’s my place to tell.”

Morgana pulled her lips into smile.

“Look at you, so loyal to your master…” she crooned. “You don’t have to worry, though. I am His Majesty’s beloved sister, remember? You can tell me all about it.”

His blue eyes met hers in a searching gaze, open and so, so trusting. She wanted to get lost in them, just look into those depths forever until she had fathomed out the soul that hid behind them… wait. Where were those thoughts coming from again? _Focus, dammit_!

Finally Merlin nodded, grinning at her. “You’re right, of course.”

“So…?” she prompted.

Her minions were craning their necks, having fallen silent again. All were listening in closely, eager to know to what the boy would have to say. This was the best source of information they’d come across in ages. They could be onto something, here.

“Um… you see…” began Merlin hesitantly. “Lately the king has had these… plans.”

“Plans?” repeated one of her foot soldiers in excitement.

Morgana’s head shot up, giving a warning glare.

Agravaine cuffed the disruptive underling on the back of the head. “Yeowch!”

“Don’t even mind these fools, Merlin.” Morgana turned back around to face the boy. “Go right on. We’re all dying to know.”

“Right. So… plans. The king has them,” continued Merlin. ”And let me tell you, he makes a big deal about guarding them. They’re so secret, he won’t even allow his wife to have a look! But I still happened upon them one day, when I was cleaning his desk.”

Morgana put a hand in front of her mouth, letting out a little gasp. “That must be such a big responsibility.”

“It is. Especially as I’m the only one who knows what it is about. Everyone has been getting concerned, because it’s consuming him at a point where he doesn’t work on anything else.” Merlin shook his head in lament.

“ _Really_.”

“Uh-huh. He’s hopeless. And he can’t ever even learn that I know his secret. He’d have my head!”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” assured Morgana sweetly, “we’ll keep this between the two of us.” And her horde of minions, who were all eavesdropping eagerly from the sidelines. By her own grace, pretty he might be but this boy really was humongously naive.

“The two of us. That sounds fair.”

Her smile grew wider, showing her teeth. “Wonderful. Go right on.”

“Well. As I was saying, plans. It…” Merlin hesitated for a few moments, then put his hands to his forehead, heaving a big sigh. “Sorry, it’s just really to talk about. It was so shocking.”

Morgana leaned in, patting his cheek consolingly. “Shhh, it’s okay.”

He blinked. “You wouldn’t believe it if you saw. The king, he...”

“Yes?”

“He’s… been practicing poetry for his wife’s birthday!”

Morgana halted abruptly in her motion, expression frozen. Had she heard right? Was this… some kind of prank?

Her minions burst into cries of outrage and disbelief, Agravaine marching forward to grab the boy by the collar. “Why, you insolent little brat! How dare you waste our queen’s time with such drivel?” 

“I… I would never!” Merlin raised his hands in defense, dumbstruck.

“Spare me, whelp—I saw you making eyes at Her Majesty! What are your intentions? To seduce her?” Agravaine started shaking him. 

The minions cheered and jeered at the display, one half still screaming at the disrespect, the other half already in hopes of a fight. “Show him!” they whooped at their general. “Put the cheeky bugger in place!”

“That’s enough!” thundered Morgana.

The crowd fell silent, looking at her in trepidation.

She ignored them, pointing a finger at Agravaine. “You take your grubby paws off him right now!”

“M-me, Milady?”

“Are there any other incompetent ferrymen in the room? Yes, of course you!” 

When he didn’t comply immediately, her glare grew sharp as a knife. “I will not repeat myself.”

Agravaine pulled his hands back abruptly, and fell to his knees in front of her. “I humbly beg your forgiveness, Majesty. I did not mean to act out of bounds.”

She eyed the pitiful figure to her feet in distaste. “Out. All of you.”

He looked up in surprise. “We…?”

“Now!”

Her tone held no room for protest. 

At once the group of minions made to leave, heads lowered in subservience as they filed out of the room in lockstep. Agravaine hurried over to join them, but turned around after the last of the men had left to give her one last look. “The boy. He...”

“If you’re still here in three seconds, I will personally feed you to the three-headed dragon.”

He was out of the door before she so much as had to snap her fingers.

When the door fell shut behind him, Morgana let out a soft sigh. Finally. She spun around to face Merlin again. And paused.

He was wearing that grin from before, the sweet one that made her stomach furl pleasantly. The perfect picture of innocence, would one take him as he were. But she had not imagined it. Just as she’d turned around, there had been a glimmer of something in his eye.

He opened his mouth. “I… uh…”

“Spare me the oafish charade.”

“Wha…?”

“You know me,” realized Morgana in growing unrest, “you’ve known from the start. You’ve made a perfect fool of me!”

He gave no reply, but his eyes said all. It was as if a veil had fallen from them, all of a sudden, revealing not only mischief but _intelligence_ ; and while his smile stayed in place, sweet and knee-weakening as before, it did not seem so innocent anymore. 

“Who are you, really?”

Merlin grinned cheekily. “Oh, but it’s just as I said, Milady. I am but a humble flower god, servant to the king.”

With a flourish, he opened his hands, conjuring a daisy out of thin air. He stretched out his hand, gently bestowing her hair with the small flower.

 _Impossible_! She gaped at him, shaking her head in astonishment. How could it be? 

“How can you cast magic within my realm?” 

It should not be within his power. Only the gods of death held any might here, she had made sure of that. Her brother may have banished her into this hellhole, but this was her domain. Whatever he may decree, he could not intervene in the matters of the dead.

“The magic of flowers is rooted in the power of the earth itself,” answered Merlin in a strange voice. “And what is the Underworld, if not the lowest level of the earth?” There was this look in his eyes again, wise and foolish all at the same time.

Finally, Morgana understood. 

She had underestimated him from the start. It was not her who had played him, but the other way around. And oh, how he’d played her—like a fiddle! It should make her feel ashamed at having been outsmarted, but instead she felt… almost thrilled.

No. She couldn’t let herself get carried away. There was no way she would not let a servant best her. 

With a snap of her fingers, she put a sleep spell on him.

She watched with an icy countenance as his eyes rolled into his head and he fell to the ground, unconscious as he’d first come to her. 

Morgana was aware that there was no way of getting any useful information out of him, not without resorting to uncouth methods. (Which she found herself strangely reluctant to do.) Instead, she decided, she would keep him in the dungeons as leverage to her brother. He had to be missing his servant by now. She knew what a soft-hearted sap he could be, he would not rest before he had the boy back safely.

Yes, this was a wise decision, she told herself. Made through cunning and strategy, not at all because she felt fondness for Merlin or anything. 

She tore the daisy he’d conjured out of her hair, and crushed it between her fingers with a scowl. 

“Guards!”

At once two of the minions burst in, spears at the ready.

She gave a dismissive nod. “Escort the prisoner to a cell.” 

She walked out of the room with rigorous steps, gaze kept straight ahead so she wouldn’t be tempted to turn back, take one last look at the sleeping boy.

On her way out, she set the crumpled plant in her hand on fire.

~*~

Despite her earlier resolve, Morgana could not stop thinking about the strange flower god all day. It was maddening—no matter what she tried, she did not manage to banish him from her mind the way she’d banished him in person.

The further it continued, the fouler her mood grew, and she ended up going to the soul-pit, wrecking more than two dozen wisps in frustration.

In the evening, having tired herself out, she retreated to her chambers, still none the wiser about how to solve the problem. She was just about to lay herself to rest, in the hopes that maybe a prophetic dream might have the answer, when suddenly a knock was heard from her door.

She sat up. “Who dares disturb me?”

“Your Majesty, pardon my intrusion! It is your loyal servant, Agravaine,” came the muffled voice from behind her heavy doors. “I come bearing bad news.”

Morgana closed her eyes for a moment, resisting the urge to sigh. Could she not leave them alone for even a few hours? “This better be good,” she growled to herself as she got up, and walked over to open up for him.

“Your Majesty,” gasped Agravaine, “it’s terrible. The prisoner has escaped!”

“ _What_?”

“He has disappeared without a trace from his cell. All that was left of him were these.” He reached out his arm toward her, presenting her with his find. 

Clasped in between his fingers was a small bouquet, entirely made of daisies.


End file.
